


Pressure

by Nyx Midnight (nyxmidnight)



Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: Desperation, Gen, Male Desperation, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-17 21:39:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/872228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyxmidnight/pseuds/Nyx%20Midnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Batter has a holy mission. He has no time for his body's needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pressure

**Author's Note:**

> For the following prompt at the OFF Kink Meme:
> 
> _Let's get some really weird kinks in this meme._
> 
> _The batter, having such a one-track mind focused on his mission, neglects his body and all its functions until the last second. It's the desperation thing I like, sooo... (I'msorrydon'tjudgeme)_

The last of the specters disappeared after a critical hit of his bat made a satisfying thud that resounded through the area, and the batter exhaled. It was not far to make it back now, but each spectre attack slowed down his progress and each swing of his bat jolted his full bladder, an annoying reminder of his body's needs. These animal urges he had - to eat, to sleep, to excrete - he would have gladly traded away for a body more fitting his holy mission, but alas, a specter could not be the purifier. Therefore, he marched on, perfectly content to ignore his needs until it threatened the continuation of his mission. His steps were not as long as before, though. Walking has started to become painful, but he refused to give in.

There was little along the path to distract him from the feeling of his bladder stretched to its limits. There were spectres, of course, but those were a hindrance more than a distraction at this point. There were Elsens too, but given the state he was in, he looked even more antipathetic than usual, and the Elsens, poor creature that they were, were even more terrified of him and utterly useless at even pointing out the direction of the nearest toilet if asked.

Finally he came into view of his goal. If he could have, he would have run, but he was reduced to walking with his legs squeezed together. From time to time, the pangs of pain coming from his bladder got more intense, and he had to stop to squeeze his cock, mentally berating his bladder for its weakness and cursing its very existence. Unmoved, it merely kept reminding him that he'd have to let go soon or face the consequences.

He leaned against his bat, biting his bottom lip as he crossed his legs and squeezed his cock hard. Almost... he just had to let the worst of this wave pass, then he'd be able to continue on. He dug the cleats of one shoe into the other, hoping the pressure and pain would distract him, but to no avail. Sensing an opportunity, a nearby lone spectre launched an attack, aiming right for the batter's stomach. The batter raised his bat but he didn't had time to block the attack before he was hit. It tore a whimper out of him as he felt his sphincter nearly yield. It only made him return the attack tenfold, angry that this thing, this impure _thing_ , had dared to lay a hand on him in such a moment. He beat the thing senseless, until there was nothing left but his bat hitting the floor and piss gushing from his cock. He tried to rein in the torrent, but it was too late now. He knelt to pick up his bat, panting in relief, and stayed in that position until his bladder was empty; only then was he able to stand again and cross what little distance he had left.

"Again?" Zacharie asked as the batter walked into his shop awkwardly, wet pants uncomfortably clinging to his legs, mostly the right one, and dripping piss onto the floor. It wasn't worth telling the batter to listen to his body more, Zacharie knew. He had tried to before and the batter had just ignored him with the excuse that his mission was more important than anything else. Zacharie was beginning to suspect that the Batter might be starting to enjoy the relief of a full bladder forcefully emptying itself in his pants. Far be it from him the idea of saying so, of course. He knew what that bat in those hands was capable of.

Instead, he led the batter in the back, as he did when the batter came to him drenched in his own piss, and left him to undress in the little washroom as he fetched him clean clothes and a bucket of plastic to wash him.

When he came back, the batter was sitting on the toilet, naked except for his trademark black baseball cap. The scent of urine hit Zacharie's nose as he knelt before the batter to wash him, starting with his foot. This was not going to come cheap, of course, but it seemed to be one of those things the Batter was starting to enjoy, to have Zacharie kneeling in front of him and rubbing a washcloth over his lower body. Having Zacharie be silent during it most likely helped as well; the first time Zacharie had been allowed to clean the Batter, thanks to Batter having injured his hands, he had babbled the whole time, prompting an exasperated Batter to grab his dirty shoe to hit Zacharie with the cleats.

But now, as long as he kept silent and didn't say a thing about the Batter wetting himself, the Batter was happy - or rather neutral - enough to let Zacharie clean even his cock. Zacharie obliged without complaining, taking the flaccid member in hand to wash it thoroughly, from the tip to under the foreskin to the shaft to the curly hair and the dangling balls at the base. As usual, it made the Batter half-hard to be manipulated and rubbed so, but neither man acted on it. Zacharie just let the washcloth fall into the bucket and got up, then handed the Batter the fresh, clean set of clothes he had brought along. The Batter took them, but did not put them on.

Aah. Zacharie knew what this meant: the Batter was going to give in to another of these body urges he hated so. Taking the Batter's hand, Zacharie led him to his bed, in the room right across from the washroom. Without a word, the Batter followed, slipping between the sheets as soon as he got near the bed, using the set of clothes her was carrying as a makeshift pillow. He was asleep as soon as he was fully horizontal, laying naked on his front, arms wrapped around his clothes. He didn't even react when Zacharie pulled the covers to his neck and smoothed them down over his muscular back, or when Zacharie removed his cap and set it aside on the bed.

Leaving the Batter to sleep, Zacharie returned to the washroom and rummaged through the Batter's dirty clothes for his wallet.

All that tender loving care did not come without a price.


End file.
